


The Perfect Excuse

by mskatej



Series: The Perfect Excuse [1]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 13:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14672031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mskatej/pseuds/mskatej
Summary: Beth and Rio have to pretend to be on a date.





	The Perfect Excuse

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, just poking my head out of fandom retirement for a quick sec, because this pairing is the goddamn sexiest thing to happen to television in years, I’m obsessed, and this story felt too damn important not to write down and share. They’re just magic together, aren’t they?
> 
> Unbeta'd. All errors are mine.

She didn’t shoot him. She considered it for about ten seconds, hand shaking so much she must have looked ridiculous. He knew she wasn’t a threat, that’s why he gave her the gun; hell, it probably wasn’t even loaded. But she considered it. While two men watched her, four riveted eyes taking it all in, wondering whether she had it in her and hoping their instincts about her were right; the two most important men in her life (seriously Beth?) forcing her to ask herself the question: can I kill a man? Can I kill _this_ man? 

And the answer wasn’t even no. Because maybe she did have it in her, but context was everything, and no way was she willing to deal with the shit storm a dead body in her house would bring down.

Her first priority was to get Dean away from Rio. The goddamn irony of being put in the position of having to _save_ her lying, cheating asshat of a husband. Make that ex husband, because that was it, she was done with him — for good this time. So she pointed her gun at him instead and said in the chilliest voice she could muster, “Dean, get out of my house right now.”

Battered, bloody and horrified, he said, “I’m not leaving you here with him.”

She felt her lip twitch with disdain. As if he were even remotely capable of protecting her. “Leave,” she said through gritted teeth. “And if you value your life you won’t call the cops.”

Rio didn’t say a word, which pulled Beth’s focus, and she found him staring at her with hard eyes and a barely perceptible smile, arm slung loose around Dean’s shoulders. Beth knew he’d let Dean go. Rio had no problem with Dean leaving, because Dean was nothing to him except leverage. Rio was here for Beth.

Even with a gun in her hand he wasn’t afraid of her, and she was still afraid of him.

“Beth,” Dean croaked, near tears. “Please.”

Anger bubbled up inside her and she nearly fucking lost it. “Get. Out,” she hissed, and it finally sunk in she wasn’t playing. He stood up. Rio let him. 

Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

“Alone at last,” Rio said, icy smile widening. “You ready to shoot me now?”

In that instant all the rage left her body, just evaporated like a spill in the sun, and she slumped into the closest chair, letting the gun slip out of her hand and onto the table.

“You know I’m not going to kill you,” she said, trying and failing not to sound defeated. 

Rio stood up. “I know.” He picked up his gun, uncocked it and slid it into the back of his pants, pulled his t-shirt down over it. “You ain’t got what it takes. You best remember that.”

She looked up at him and held his steely gaze. How had this man become so impossible to disentangle herself from? She was always one fuckup away from a bullet to the head and yet she kept handing him all the power like it was homemade candy she couldn’t wait for him to taste. 

Of course she knew how, and why. As terrifying and ruthless as Rio was, what they did together made her feel alive. She was the one who kept going back for more, she was the one who wouldn’t let him sever ties. For fuck’s sake he’d tried to rid himself of her and she hadn’t let him. 

What did she want from him? And why did he keep letting her back in?

Money, sure, that was of course the main reason she couldn’t quit this risky new life she’d constructed for herself and the girls, and it was the main reason Rio stuck around. They all needed the money, and crime did indeed pay.

“Are we really done?” she said as he turned towards the door. The fear had evaporated too; he wasn’t going to kill her. Not today anyway.

He turned back with a sigh, eyes closing for a moment. When he opened them again his gaze had softened into something closer to weary frustration. It took him an age to respond. “Don’t call me,” he said, turning and opening the door. But just before the door shut behind him she heard it. “I’ll call you.”

* * *

Three weeks have passed and Beth is going out of her mind. She checks the burner he gave her — her ‘Rio Phone’ — several times a day, hoping for a text, forcing herself not to cave in and contact him because he told her in no uncertain terms not to and she can’t risk blowing it. Annie and Ruby (and Mary Pat — damn that wily rotten egg) are badgering her on the daily; money’s running out and they’re impatient to get back to work. They’ve forgiven Rio for threatening Beth, both of them assuming he’s lost interest in killing her. Hell maybe it was never his intention. Getting him arrested probably didn’t help the situation but even after all that he still didn’t kill Beth when he had the chance. And he hasn’t killed her since. And the fact he trusted Beth with the gun (“Come on guys, there’s no way it was loaded, he’s not stupid”) was just his twisted way of saying he wanted them both to stay alive. Right? 

Or maybe getting him arrested did help. Maybe it made him realise how far Beth is willing to go. Okay, she’s not capable of killing him but that doesn’t mean she’s not capable of doing what needs to be done to make them both stack-loads of cash. 

This feeling of longing, that intensifies with each passing day, is unsettling.

Ruby and Stan are back together and Stan’s now their guy on the inside, which is all kinds of fucked up even if Beth can’t feel anything other than pleased about it. 

Turner has stopped sniffing around and seemingly still has no idea about Beth’s real connection to Rio. 

Things feel safe, and like it’s time. Time to move onto the next phase of their lives.

“Goddammit Rio, call me,” she tells her reflection in the bathroom mirror, before checking her Rio Phone for the millionth time that day. “You promised.” Two more days. She’ll give it til the weekend, and if he hasn’t contacted her by then she’s going to call him. She can’t take much more of this.

At three o’clock on Friday afternoon she gets a text, and the sight of it sends a pleasant shiver up her spine. It says nothing but the name of a cafe and a downtown zip code. Beth grins and grabs her car keys from the bowl.

* * *

He’s already there when she walks in, dark blue shirt buttoned up to the collar, sitting in a corner booth, facing the room, taking a sip of coffee and making immediate eye contact. Beth does her damndest to contain her smile. She should not be this happy to see someone who was probably considering murdering her less than a month ago.

Christ. He’s smiling at her now, that way he does sometimes. As if just the sight of her pleases him. By the time she’s slipped into the seat opposite him her smile has broken free, and he responds to it with a gruff laugh.

“Elizabeth.”

“Rio,” she says. “I was glad to hear from you.” She leaves the ‘and about fucking time you prick’ unsaid, but it’s there in her tone.

“Mm,” he hums, giving her a knowing look. “You got hungry mouths to feed.”

“That’s right. We’re all ready to get back to work, and I have it on good authority that the heat is, um… off you.”

“Oh you have it on good authority?”

“I do.”

There’s a twinkle in his eye and if she didn’t know any better she’d say he was enjoying her company. Which is fortunate because as far as she’s concerned they’re a team. He agreed to meet her and that makes them partners in crime again; he knows there’s no way she’s going back to that suburban fake-ass bullshit excuse for a life she had before she met him, when Dean was the center of her universe, not unless she’s willing to resign herself to slow death by boredom. She’ll split herself in two. Mom Beth and Boss Beth. She can have both, because it’s the only way she can survive.

Beth can finally breathe again.

They get down to business without delay, Rio giving Beth her instructions just like old times: he’s got more fake cash for her to collect and launder. This is good news because she knows exactly how to get the job done right, and it’s a relief they’re sticking with a business more or less victimless. What will happen when Rio flips the game in an unsavory direction? Will she have it in her to stay the course? Does she even know what her limits are? Because since she met Rio the goal posts keep shifting and now she’s not even sure what she’s capable of anymore. All she knows is she’s no longer anyone’s wife and she’s way more than just a mother of four. 

Happier than she’s felt in three and a half weeks she stands up and turns to leave, and like something out of a fucking nightmare Agent Turner walks in the door, dressed casual and accompanied by an attractive woman. Oh dear god, is this for real? What are the odds? He hasn’t seen her yet, because he’s obviously not here for her, or Rio, he’s just here to get a cup of coffee and some pie with his girlfriend. It’s so absurd and unlikely Beth almost laughs.

But the smartest thing she can do right now is remain cool and pretend she hasn’t seen him. So she walks to the empty booth next to Rio’s and picks up a bottle of ketchup, then returns to her seat.

“Turner is here.”

“I can see that.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“What’d you tell him about us?”

“That we had a one night stand. And that I was never going to see you again.”

“Well darlin, looks like you couldn’t get enough.” His sleepy smile is a just a shade too smug and she can feel her face heating up. 

“Looks like that.”

Rio reaches across the table and takes her hand in his, tilts his head and fixes her with a look of intense interest. She licks her lips, the nervous thrill of their deception turning her breath shallow. They have to pretend they’re on a date.

“Has he seen us?”

Rio shakes his head. “Not yet.” Then, swift and smooth, he slides out of the booth and back in on Beth’s side. His back is to the room now, giving them maybe a few more seconds’ cover. Rio slings an arm around her shoulders and draws her close. 

“Don’t look over at him,” Rio says, his voice low. “We haven’t seen him. Just be natural.”

She tries to calm her breathing but it’s difficult with him so close she can smell his cologne. “This isn’t exactly a natural situation.”

He gives her his patented faux-quizzical look. “You never been on a date before?”

She laughs and raises her eyes to the ceiling. “It’s been a while.”

Rio leans in and murmurs right into her ear, his breath a warm caress. “He’ll have seen us by now.” She’s desperate to look over the back of the booth to confirm but then Rio trails his free hand across her torso and grips her ribs, thumb to wrist pressing into the undersides of her breasts. Squeeze, release. Squeeze, release. “Don’t check,” he reminds her, and the graze of his lips against her earlobe makes her eyelids heavy… she can’t remember the last time she was touched like this. “Make it convincing...” Lips dragging down her cheek towards her mouth. 

Her mouth falls open as she turns with a helpless sigh. 

Their lips meet. No tentative warm up, their kiss is hungry from the outset, Rio’s tongue sliding against hers again and again. Tasting her. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her flush against him. It’s without a doubt the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to her.

There’s no longer any point denying she’s attracted to him and has been for a while. It’s hard to pinpoint when the attraction started but she does remember when she became aware of it. 

_“Alright so tell them I was hittin’ it.”_

_“What?”_

_“Oh I’m sorry sweetheart, tell them... we’re makin love.”_

It had shocked her, because the idea hadn’t crossed her mind. She’d been at a total loss for what she was going to say to the feds, but the moment Rio said it she knew he was right. It was a genius cover story and the only thing that made any real sense, and it made sense because, well, if she was being honest, it wasn’t totally outside the realm of possibility. It’s not like he’s unattractive and it’s not like he lacks confidence. She could picture it and the picture didn’t repulse her one bit.

After that conversation she started coming up with possible scenarios; she won’t go so far as to call them fantasies, even though every scenario did culminate with the two of them having sex. And the thought of the sex always turned her on. She had every detail of the kitchen table cover story figured out in her head long before she was in that room with Agent Turner. 

All this kissing feels like sex. Like a prelude to sex. Even though it’s not.

When Rio draws his face away from hers, she leans in, chasing his lips, not ready for it to be over yet. He smiles and slides his hand up her back, cups the back of her neck and kisses her again. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he says against her lips. 

“Okay,” she breathes out, her body tensing up as she remembers what they’re actually doing and why. “What if he stops us?”

“We’ll deal with it.” He pulls away from her and stands up, offering her his hand. She grabs her bag and takes his hand, stays focused on his smiling face, and slots comfortably under his arm as they turn to leave.

Beth keeps her eyes ahead of her as they walk out, but in her periphery she can see Turner is facing their way, so best to assume they’ve been made. All the more reason to stay in character. 

Once they’re outside Rio steers them left and points down the street. “There’s a hotel round the corner,” he says, keeping his arm around her.

“Seriously?”

“You know he’s gonna follow us,” Rio says. “Gotta keep up appearances.”

“Okay,” she says, a little breathless. What does this mean? Is he actually suggesting they get a room right now? Does he think just because they made out for the sake of her cover story she’s going to put out?

Oh god, who is she trying to kid, of course she’s going to put out if that’s what he wants. She hasn’t been this turned on in years.

But then....maybe he’s just being cautious and this is still just business. Maybe they’ll get to the room and nothing will happen. Maybe the suspense will kill her.

Neither of them look back but she knows Turner’s behind them. Keeping his distance; apparently only interested in seeing what they do next.

They round the corner and walk slowly down the block towards an arresting, five story building on the next corner. There are three large, windowed arches built into the ground floor, revealing a spacious, inviting looking bar inside, bathed in golden light, already busy. It’s just after five; all those people, finished with work for the week, enjoying their first cocktail of the weekend. The arches are an unusual architectural feature and they remind her of something she can’t put her finger on. Rio nods at the building. “Used to be a fire station.” 

Of course. “Huh,” she murmurs, already impressed with the hotel, and even more impressed with Rio for teaching her something that for once isn’t crime-related. 

At the entrance Rio removes his arm from around her shoulder and takes her hand instead. 

The hotel is utterly gorgeous inside - ceilings so high Beth can’t help but tip her head back, taking it all in, her jaw dropping. Warm and light, with decor so chic the place feels almost magical — and not nearly seedy enough for what they have planned. Something tells her this hotel doesn’t rent rooms by the hour, and what on earth will the man working the front desk think of her? Rio is obviously not her husband.

The clerk makes eye contact with both of them as they approach and if he has any opinions about what the two of them are doing together they’re impossible to discern. His smile remains impassive when Rio tells him he’ll pay for the room upfront in cash; his pleasant, unmemorable face somehow managing to convey both indifference and acceptance of this and of all the other scandalous things he has borne witness to in this job of his. It is the face of a man who knows how to keep a secret. 

“Of course sir,” he replies with a discreet nod of understanding. “I will need to take a credit card in case any charges are accrued during your stay, but it won’t be logged on the system otherwise.”

“You can take mine,” Beth says, fishing her purse out of her bag and passing him the card. Something tells her Rio doesn’t do credit cards.

The clerk hands the room key to Rio. “Room 409, fourth floor. ” 

“Thanks man,” Rio says, nodding and running an idle finger down Beth’s arm, and she’s struck again by how attractive he is. When he’s not intimidating the hell out of people he can be charming. Polite, even. It’s nice to see that side of him.

As Beth turns towards Rio, she catches sight of Turner standing just inside the entrance, but manages to keep her gaze averted. Snaking an arm around Rio’s waist she steers him in the direction of the elevators, murmuring, “He’s here,” as they walk.

“Told you.”

“Yes, you’re very clever, well done.”

Her sarcasm makes him chuckle, and how delightful is it she can make this man laugh? She swallows her own laugh but there’s no reining in the smile on her face.

And now they just have to hope Turner won’t confront them before the elevator arrives. Better to leave it up to his imagination for now than to have to spin a story on their feet. They’d probably do a pretty good job of it; she senses they’d make a good team in that regard —he’s exceptionally cagey and she’s an excellent liar — but still, her preference is to not have to talk to Turner again right now about her wild fictional affair with a known crime boss. 

Beth looks up to find Rio gazing down at her like he wants to devour her. “Let’s give the man a show,” he says, tipping her chin up with the pad of his index finger and kissing her again. Soft and slow and deep — _god_ he smells good — and when the elevator doors ping open and he pulls slowly away she misses the taste of him. 

Her knees wobble a little as she enters the elevator and once they’re inside they turn to face each other. Turner’s out there, watching them, but as far as he knows they haven’t seen him. Even if he does suspect otherwise he has nothing on them except proof they’re romantically entangled.

Beth knows she’ll have to talk to Turner again, but as far as today’s concerned, they’ve maintained their cover. It’s been a job well done.

The elevator doors close and Rio takes a step back, leans against the wall. 

It surprises her. She’d been expecting him to kiss her again and now that he isn’t kissing her or touching her she feels bereft, as if something’s been taken away from her that she might never get back.

But surely...he wasn’t faking the entire time just now? No way. No. You don’t kiss like that if you’re not into it. And he’s made it clear on more than one occasion he finds her attractive. This is not one-sided. 

“Girl,” he says, teeth dragging over his bottom lip. “You were...convincing.”

She will not show any weakness. “You too.”

He makes a little noise of agreement, his gaze dropping to her breasts and lingering for a shameless second before returning to her face. “We gonna have to stay here at least an hour if we wanna sell it.”

No way is this one-sided.

“Agreed.”

He licks his lips. “How will we pass the time?” That smile of his will be her undoing. That way he looks at her like he can see into her soul.

They don’t say another word until they’re in the room, the door shut behind them. It’s a nice room. Not big, but well decorated. The sun’s down for the night and it’s just turned dark outside. Rio flicks the light switches on the wall until the main light is off and the room is lit by only the bedside lamps, then he walks over to the window and draws the curtains. Is he creating a more intimate atmosphere on purpose? Beth can only assume so. 

“What are we doing?” Beth asks but her voice sounds too loud, too uncertain. She’s acting like he gets to call all the shots. What she wants matters too, she mustn’t forget that.

He walks back over to her until he’s standing in front of her, staring into her eyes, close as he can be without their bodies touching. “I know what I wanna do.” 

She stares back. 

She can’t tear her eyes from his, and god, is she really starting to pant? 

She knows him well enough to know he’d never proposition her unless he was sure she wanted it. He’s too smart and too proud to risk rejection, which means it’s written all over her. But how does he have so much self-control? Why isn’t he kissing her yet? Is he a sadist? He knows exactly how crazy he’s making her feel, how much he’s turning her on, god he can read her like a book. Eyes roving around her face, her throat, her cleavage, breathing against her lips and chin but not kissing her, holding back because he can see what it’s doing to her and he likes it. She squeezes her legs together, grits her teeth and lets out the breath she was holding.

When he finally grabs her, presses his lips to hers again and slides his tongue inside her mouth, they both moan. 

She knew it. He wants her just as badly as she wants him, and Turner gave them the perfect excuse to make it happen. Under no other circumstance would this have come to pass, she would never have acted on her attraction to him, never. It was an idle fantasy, not a realistic one. But now they’ve had a taste of each other there’s no going back. She needs this. They both need this.

They strip off their shirts and the sight of Rio’s bare chest sends a ripple of arousal through her. He has a lot of ink, minimal body hair, and not an ounce of fat — he is pure muscle and danger and maleness and sex appeal. She experiences a flicker of guilt with the realization that she’s never been with anyone even a fraction this gorgeous before. 

Poor Dean. It’s not fair to compare the two of them.

Rio drops onto the bed, leaning back on his elbows, never taking his eyes off her; plainly aware of his own allure and that the sight of him half undressed is turning Beth’s insides to liquid. She’s still wearing her bra and her pants, not quite ready to be fully naked yet, not until they’re both desperate for it.

She kneels up on the bed, astride his thighs, and he starts to straighten up so he can kiss her again, but she stops him with a palm in the center of his chest, pushing him down onto his back. He goes without protest, a smile on his face that tells her he likes it when she takes charge.

Time to explore.

She trails her fingertips down the length of his face, then grips his shoulders and buries her mouth into his neck, licking and sucking at his hot, patterned skin and breathing in the sweet subtle tang of his expensive cologne. He just takes it, lets her touch his body however she wants, and keeps his own hands relatively still — resting lightly on her thighs as Beth’s hands roam all over his chest, one of her hands even coming to rest loosely around his throat as she finds his mouth again with her own.

Those little noises he makes will be the death of her. Like the low groan she elicits when she bites his nipple. Christ almighty, it’s not just her panties that are drenched, the crotch of her pants are soaked through too. It’s all so different. He’s so different from Dean, and okay she’ll stop comparing the two of them any minute now but it’s just so exciting. Dean’s nipples aren’t sensitive at all.

She can feel how hard Rio is through their clothes and she grinds down, increasing the contact where it matters most. He raises his hips in response and grabs her waist, then slides his hands up her back so he can tug her towards him for another kiss, and god, they’re humping each other through their clothes like teenagers, and it feels so good Beth will come if they don’t stop soon. 

“Fuck me,” he breathes out, unhooking her bra and pulling the straps down her arms, tossing it off the bed. His voice a breathless, ragged whisper, “I want you.” He’s sucking on one of her nipples now, palm on her other breast, fingers squeezing her other nipple hard enough to make her gasp.

She believes him. She’s never felt more gorgeous, or more excited. She needs them naked right now, needs him inside her _right now_.

“I want you too.”

Her confession makes him groan, long and breathy, and now he’s attacking the fly of her pants. “Let’s get you naked.”

“You too,” she insists, deciding at that moment to be practical. She climbs off him and flops onto her back, pushing her pants and panties down and off, giving him the chance to do the same. He obliges, and when they roll back onto their sides to face each other they’re both completely naked. She gazes down at his body with an appreciative sigh. More ink adorns his legs, because of course. A little pain - or a whole lot of pain given the extent of his tattoos - ain’t nothing to Rio. Nothing scares this man.

Most importantly, his cock is so hard it’s pointing at his chin, almost touching his belly. That’s how much he wants her. Eyelids drooping, pupils fully dilated, shallow breaths audible, he’s a vision of lust and peak physical attractiveness, and he’s all hers. 

She crawls into his arms, wanting, needing to feel his skin against hers, their bodies writhing as they get more and more worked up, closer and closer to the inevitable. She strokes his cock, which gets her a long, grateful moan, but it’s when he slides his own fingers between her legs and slips a couple into her vagina he nearly loses it. His eyes cross and he looks drunk, intoxicated, his voice a hoarse whisper— “Fuck so wet for me,” — and then he kisses her, hard and passionate and greedy.

Is she really doing this? Sex with someone new? He’s only the second man she’s been to bed with, and it’s so different, so much more exciting and dangerous, so much scarier. She has no clue where this will lead her but she does know it won’t be a good, safe, healthy place. Fucking Rio is a bad, bad decision, she knows this; just as she knows it’s the only decision she can possibly make.

Her body is ablaze with desire and there’s only one thing left to do; she moves to straddle him so she can finally take him inside her, but he’s moving in the opposite direction, grabbing his pants and rooting around in the pockets. What the hell is he doing?

Then he’s back and ripping a condom wrapper open with his teeth.

Oh.

It hadn’t even occurred to her. She and Dean were never good at condoms. Hence the four kids. Hence the tubal ligation. She’s honestly not even sure she could put one on correctly. 

Rio has no such issue. He rolls the condom down over his erection with practiced ease, and she supposes it’s admirable he’s responsible about this kind of thing.

“I can’t get pregnant,” she tells him anyway.

“Good to know.” He smiles at her. “But it ain’t just about that.”

Double Oh. 

STDs. Another thing that hadn’t even occurred to her. 

In which case it’s definitely a good thing he’s being cautious; she has no idea where he’s been or how many partners he’s had. And the fact he’s being vigilant about using a condom with her even though she’s about the least likely person in the world to have an STD also bodes well. It means he cares just as much about protecting her as himself.

Rolling onto his side until he’s facing her, he slides a hand over her belly and clutches her waist, leans in and kisses her on the mouth. 

“Dean and I never used condoms,” she admits with a self-conscious laugh. 

“Figures,” he says, amused, climbing between her legs. “I’ll get tested tomorrow. But this time let’s keep it wrapped up.”

“Okay,” she gasps as he slides his cock inside her with a groan. 

His admission that he wants and intends to do this again fills Beth with joyful relief. Was that also a promise of monogamy?

God … it feels incredible. He feels incredible. Like his cock was made especially for her. He’s the perfect size. Is this what sex is supposed to be like? His body fits into hers so well it seems impossible she ever lived without it. They build a rhythm up, slow and sensual like reggae, the mattress their dance floor. She bets he’s a good dancer. God this feels too good for it not to have been the inevitable conclusion to every encounter they’ve ever had; the climax, so to speak, of every antagonistic exchange. That was all foreplay, Beth sees it now. This is where they were headed all along. 

As he fucks her, and sucks on her neck, and licks into her mouth, glorious sensations begin to build and spread and overwhelm. She’s not even bothering to keep the volume of her moaning at a reasonable level — at this point she can’t help the noises she’s making — and neither is he. He’s panting and moaning as much as she is. Christ, the way it feels every time he plunges deep inside her is causing her to practically sob with pleasure. 

Rio must sense she’s closing in on an orgasm, because he rolls them over, strong enough to pull her up on top of him like she weighs nothing… and this is better, this is perfect... she’s on top now and she can ride him, work her clit against his pelvis at exactly the right angle and pace to get her where she needs to go. 

He’s gazing up at her with parted lips, his hands on her hips, pumping into her as she moves. They go fast for a while, getting her closer and closer, until she needs to stop for a second and then slow it right down, slow it all the way down, so she can feel it deeper and deeper, so she can make every luxurious thrust last longer and go deeper and feel harder. “Come on, baby,” he says through clenched teeth, “Come on…”

The orgasm slams into her, almost knocking the wind out of her, an onslaught of intense, overwhelming pleasure impossible to contain. She’s shaking with the bliss of it and her limbs turn to jelly as she slumps onto his chest, Rio murmuring in her ear, “It’s okay, it’s okay baby, you did good.” She pants and whimpers into the wet skin of his neck, aftershocks still shuddering through her. 

He never stops moving, thrusting into her at his own pace now, because it’s his turn. Beth tries her best to move with him, to help him feel as good as he’s just made her feel, but he doesn’t seem to mind how limp she’s gone in his arms, his hips bouncing further and further off the bed...cock driving into her harder and harder, and now she needs to see his face because he’s going to come any second and— 

There it is. That moment where life meets death and nothing else in the world matters. Rio’s face, beautiful and clenched, the blissful shock of orgasm surging through his body.

Incredible.

They collapse in a tangle of limbs.

* * *

He holds her in his arms while Beth draws circles on his shoulder with her fingers. That was...well, that was extraordinary. What the hell is she supposed to do now? She has responsibilities. And yet here she is, naked in bed with a dangerous criminal, happier and more satisfied than she’s ever felt in her life, wishing she could stay here with him all night.

Couldn’t she though?

Dean’s got the kids tonight and the only plan she had was to pick up Rio’s fake cash. 

“Hey,” she says to him, kissing his chest, looking up into his eyes. “Is it okay if I pick up the package tomorrow instead of tonight?”

He grins at her. “Cool.


End file.
